


Don't Cross the Streams

by Tarlan



Category: Ghostbusters (Movies)
Genre: Masturbation, Merry Month of Masturbation Challenge, Mild Kink, Other, Post-Movie(s)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-05-17
Updated: 2012-05-17
Packaged: 2017-11-05 13:14:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 820
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/406830
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tarlan/pseuds/Tarlan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Venkman had placed a tawdry thought in his head, and now that was all Ray could think about.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Don't Cross the Streams

**Author's Note:**

> Written for: **mmom** 2012 Day 17

Venkman always managed to turn innocence into tawdry innuendo, and this was just another example of it. When Ray told him that Egon had slept with the mood-slime, he meant just that. Exactly as worded. Slept as in sleep, and not what was obviously tripping through Venkman's mind right at this moment. Except now that the idea of something more tawdry than sleeping was in his head, Ray was having a hard time shaking it, and only the imminent descent of New York City into the tenth level of Hell kept him from dropping everything so he could experiment with that idea.

The slime brought the Statue of Liberty to life, uniting all the goodwill in New York, and helping to smash through the candy shell of evil over the Manhattan Museum of Art. Inside, the battle against Vigo was fierce and, initially, Ray had his doubts that they could win but as the first chime of the New Year pealed across the city, hundreds of voices raised in song, and it was enough to help them drive Vigo back into the painting.

They had saved baby Oscar from becoming a vessel for Vigo the Carpathian. Hell, they had saved the whole planet from falling under Vigo's evil rule, and now they were back in business again. No more children's parties just to help cover the rent on his Occult store.

Once the adrenaline rush had worn off, Ray felt exhausted, feeling all the weight of the heavy proton pack on his back as he trudged into the Ghostbusters' equipment room. Carefully, he eased out of the pack before heading towards the private sleeping quarters set up years before, and almost wept in gratitude when he entered his old room.

Janine had been busy while they had been out saving the city. She had aired the room and put fresh linen on the bed. The temptation to simply drop onto the bed and fall asleep was strong but he resisted long enough to pull off his grimy jump suit and boots. Naked, he pulled the sheets all the way down to the bottom of the bed and flopped backwards, spreadeagled across the mattress.

Ten minutes later he was still staring up at the ceiling with the thoughts churning wildly through his mind too fast to give him any respite, despite his body's exhaustion. There was one thought in particular that kept circling back no matter how hard he tried to push it aside, and eventually he gave in to the inevitable. He draped himself in the sheet, wearing it like a toga as he made his way to the laboratory. The original jar of mood slime was exactly where they had left it earlier, and he stole it away to his room, and placed it on the bedside table.

He already knew it wasn't toxic but he still felt a perverse thrill of danger as he stuck two fingers into the slime and smeared it liberally along the length of his already lengthening cock. He hummed softly, and gasped as his cock twitched unnaturally. It was the slime taking control, and though it felt strange, he took his hands away and watched in fascination while concentrating on happy, sexy thoughts. The slime seemed to caress him, teasing and squeezing along the length, sliding and rippling over the head. The pleasure shocked through him, zapping along his spine and down his legs, spreading out until he felt as if his whole body was wired to the mains with electricity jolting through him mildly like a low powered buzz. He jammed his fist into his mouth to stop himself crying out.

Wildly, he remembered something Egon had once said about the charged particle beam emitted by the proton pack. "Don't cross the streams. It would be bad. Try to imagine all life as you know it stopping instantaneously and every molecule in your body exploding at the speed of light."

That was how he was feeling now.

The constant caress of slime and tiny jolts brought him to the edge of annihilation, and he bit down harder on his fist as every molecule in his body went into a sensory overload, come splattering across his belly and chest in white ribbons until he was completely spent. Shaking, he grabbed for the wash cloth that he'd at least had the foresight to leave on the bedside table; he wiped off the slime, whimpering as the was cloth scraped against his almost unbearably sensitive cock.

Ray let the wash cloth fall out of his hand onto the floor, and pulled up the sheet in a stupor, letting his head flop back onto the pillow.

His last thought as his exhausted yet sated body and calmed mind fell into a deep and needed sleep was to wonder what it would have felt like if he had slipped those two fingers up his ass too.

END


End file.
